


Take my hand, or don't.

by Jeminy3



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Anxiety, Holding Hands, M/M, Pining, canon-divergent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 03:16:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13966182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeminy3/pseuds/Jeminy3
Summary: Summary: Set during the Stomach Arc, when Ed and Ling are resting on that stone dais for who knows how long. It gives Ling time to think about things - like his sudden fondness for his odd new friend.Features: lots of Ling headcanons. mentions of Lan Fan's amputation, blood, injury, pain. cultural/systemic homophobia. anxiety, internalized shame. vaguely naughty thoughts. feelings, awkward teens being awkward, hand-holding.Note: Apologies in advance if I make Ling too... out-of-character? he's meant to have some hangups from growing up in a homophobic culture, but some things might be exaggerated for the sake of tension. ...or it's just me projecting my own social anxiety into every character I write. oof.Read on Google Docs: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1iEuq20OsAdydDZ_AX52_fXNXBTOd74Tv8PHSMgVrDfg/edit?usp=sharingRead on Tumblr: http://jeminy3.tumblr.com/post/171849084438/take-my-hand-or-dont





	Take my hand, or don't.

**Author's Note:**

> " Secrets I have held in my heart,  
> are harder to hide than I thought.  
> Maybe... I just wanna be yours. "  
> \- from I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys

Ling's eyes are closed, deep in thought.

 

...But maybe it's not so much 'thinking' as _worrying_. Because all he can really _think_ about is every terrible event that'd transpired within the past several weeks.

Lan Fan's lost her arm. Her whole arm, for his sake. She nearly died while they hid in that sewer afterward, white as a ghost and trembling from the pain, their makeshift bandages soaked completely with her blood. But she was still as stone, and just as silent, vigilant as ever. And, perhaps, out of fear that moving would make her bleed out even more.

Ling's senses remember it too well.  He can still hear her ragged breathing, smell the bload-soaked linens on top of the choking scent of sewage around them, see her trembling lower lip bitten raw and red, close to bleeding. Only years and years of assassination training, twice as harsh as what she already went through as a child, would have possibly prepared her for this. Nothing would have prepared Ling.

And now she was on her way back to Xing for an automail replacement which, from what Edward's implied, would put her through even more terrible pain. And she planned to come back long before she medically should.

She didn't deserve this. Any of it.

Fuu is gone, too. Ling has no doubt he'll be fine hiding out in Central - the man was as cunning and resourceful as they came, _especially_ because of his age, not despite it. Ling's trusted him with his life since he and Lan Fan were children. Probably in more ways than one... Truthfully, Fuu's the closest he's ever had to anything resembling a father figure in his life. He's a good man. Even with his royal status, Ling considers himself privileged to have had Fuu as a guardian, watching him alongside Fuu's orphaned granddaughter.

So him not being around anymore is... disconcerting, to say the least.

Ling can't relax, despite his best efforts. His thoughts circle like whirlpools around these subjects, frothing with emotions like guilt and fear.

...He's also finding it hard to relax with his stomach complaining over how in the world it was expected to digest the boiled leather from Ed's boot he'd eaten a few minutes ago. But, it's better than having eaten nothing, which his stomach would complain about even moreso.

Still, he feels pretty awful overall. The stress from his thoughts was probably making him feel even worse.

Desperate for some kind of relief, Ling opens his eyes, since keeping them closed wasn't helping. But his surroundings are no comfort, either - all he sees around him is an endless, inky blackness, it's ground plane covered by a literal ocean of blood, dotted with flaming wreckage and ruins from various cities and cultures. It's a hellscape.

Ling turns his head to his right to see Edward lying next to him, eyes closed, resting on the stone dais beneath them. From the creases in his brow, he doesn't seem to be any more successful at trying to relax than Ling was.

Something catches Ling's eye - the light of their campfire was catching on Ed's golden hair, creating bright, molten spots of white-gold along the top of his head. The flickering of the fire makes them shimmer and dance in a strange rhythm.

Ling finds himself lost in the sight, watching the spots shimmer along Ed's hair. He can see the individual strands from this distance, sticking out from his slightly-messy braid, pushed up from the bandage wrapped around his forehead, sticking to the skin of Ed's cheeks and jawline, still glistening with sweat.

Ed must have exerted himself quite a bit when he'd carried Ling earlier, after he'd collapsed from hunger and exhaustion (again). And who knew how long he'd spent wandering this hellish landscape before Ling encountered him...  

But if Ed had been that tired, he was good at hiding it. And he was always stronger than he looked - Ling almost admired him for it, that so much strength could lie in such a comically small frame.

Ling's mind drifts. He thinks back to when he was slumped over Ed's shoulders as he trudged on through this sea of blood and ruins, slipping in and out of consciousness. It was far from a smooth or comfortable ride, but the warmth and boulder-like sturdiness of the person carrying him wasn't... unpleasant. He'd almost felt... safe, in a way. Or at least, calm enough that he could relax a little, knowing this odd little Alchemist was indeed someone he could trust. With his life, even.

And looking at Edward now, he suddenly realizes that calm, peaceful feeling has returned to him. The worried voices of his thoughts had long ago faded into silence without him even noticing. He almost feels relieved...

...Until he hears Ed's voice.

"...Why are you staring at me?"

Ling snaps out of his strange trance and quickly looks away, suppressing a wave of heat rising to his cheeks.

"Who said I was staring? I was doing no such thing," he says, feigning innocence.

He can practically _hear_ Ed frowning at him. "Um, yeah you were. Just now. For like, a whole minute."

Ling glances back at Ed fast enough to notice his gold eyes, which were squinting at him incredulously, then quickly looks away again. As usual, it was difficult to pull anything past Edward. Much like his physical strength, he had much more intelligence than one would assume at first glance.

Ling shrugs, his shoulders rubbing against the stone dais under him.  "And so what if I was? It's not like there's anything interesting to look at here."

He hears Ed let out a huff, obviously annoyed. "Whatever, idiot."

Ling begins to regret phrasing his statement like that, as if he were implying Edward was something that was... interesting to look at. Well, he was, but he didn't mean- ah. Um. Perhaps he should abandon this train of thought...

Instead, a new thought occurs to him. Truthfully, this wasn't the first time Ling had caught himself staring at Edward for unusually long lengths of time.

Ling studied him with amusement several times when they first met in Rush Valley. It was funny how he threw his arms around so comically when in a rage, but more interesting was how he took a certain stance when introducing himself or explaining something. He always carried himself with this confidence, this air of a devil-may-care attitude with his garish clothes and his posturing; But he never disguised his sharp wit, his ability to see right through you and your lies, always staring you down with piercing, glaring eyes. Ling was never intimidated, of course- Well, maybe a little bit, since Ed had no qualms against striking him with blunt, heavy objects or his own fists.

In fact, back then Ling wouldn't have believed it if you told him Edward could ever be completely relaxed around other people. But he was soon proven wrong during their train ride to Central. After another amusing argument that had ended with Lan Fan driving a sword through the roof of their passenger car and scaring the daylights out of him, Edward had finally tired himself out enough to rejoin his armored brother in their booth. When Ling left to retrieve some more refreshments from a food cart and came back, he snuck a glance and was surprised to see Ed in the middle of dozing off in his brother's lap. He was almost a completely different person when he was sleeping, so relaxed and peaceful were his features. Ling was fascinated - until he lingered too long of course, earning him a strange look from Alphonse, so he quickly turned away and kept walking. ...At least, as strange a look that a suit of armor could give.

And just earlier this night (if it was even the same night, who knows how time worked in this strange place), in Dr. Knox's cottage, Ling found himself even more surprised and fascinated by Edward. He'd decided to check on Lan Fan one last time before retiring for the night, and was surprised to find Ed still at her bedside, looking down on her with an expression that could only be a deep, knowing empathy. His eyes were downcast and gentle, and he was speaking softly as he shared his own experiences enduring automail surgery and the subsequent recovery process. Lan Fan, still in a significant amount of pain, was relaxed and smiling up at him as she listened.

The sight had gripped Ling with a strange, unknown feeling, and he'd suddenly felt too bashful to even approach the bedroom's open door. He'd quietly withdrawn without making himself known - which was very unusual for him.

So now, Ling wonders... what _are_ these feelings he has for Ed suddenly? And where are they coming from?

...Well he _would_ wonder, if he didn't already know deep in his guts. He knows better, because he's been here several times before. He's just dancing around with denial for whatever reason. Ling takes a breath, lets it out slowly.

The answer is very simple - he's becoming fond of Edward. Platonically? Definitely. Romantically? Er... maybe. Possibly.

He'd rather not, because Ling can't really afford to have... _romantic_ fondness right now.

If he could, he'd set his feelings aside and remind them that this was all well and good, but right now he has a very important mission to accomplish and he can't afford to be distracted like this.

It wouldn't work, of course. The very nature of Feelings was that they just kept, well, _feeling_ things, no matter what you said or did to try and suppress them. Sometimes it only made them stronger.

Even now, he can hear his heart insisting:

_Ah, but Edward is so interesting! He's so different from anyone I've ever met before!_

_He's so fun to tease, with his bad temper and even worse height complex. Just one small comment on his shortness sends him flying into a rage! It's so funny!_

_And he has such strange, fascinating powers! He can warp the very earth beneath him with just a clap of his hands! Other so-called Alchemists have to use circles and arrays to do anything like that, like the Alkehestrists back home._

_And even with his overwhelming bluntness, he manages to be so mysterious, too! He still hasn't explained how exactly he acquired this strange power, or why he has not one, but_ two _limbs replaced with automail. He keeps dodging or outright ignoring any questions about the details._

_And of course, he's not bad on the eyes, either..._

Ling feels the heat in his cheeks rising to his ears, and he decides to stop following this particular train of thought as well.

Suddenly he's reminded of an inside joke among his friends back home:

_Oh, it's easy to steal Ling Yao's heart - just buy all his food for him!_

Ling had always laughed at that joke, but deep down, he slightly resents it. He wasn't _that_ shallow, surely! Of course he looked for much more than simply money and food when it came to romance!

Although thinking about it, Ed _had_ been paying for some of his meals lately - just not by his own volition. But Ling had justified, if he was that rich and the cooks were gracious enough to make it all, why not? Drink from the trough while it's there, as an old saying went.

There has to be something else about Edward that was causing all this fondness, right? It couldn't be just the money... Maybe it was his looks after all? He was rather exotic, even by Amestrian standards. Ling had yet to see anyone else with his particular shade of gold-blonde hair, _and_ have it be natural, according to Ed's brother when he asked about it.

It was the same with his gold eyes, the most unique and striking of his facial features. The irises were like frozen drops of bright amber, lighting up like fireflies with his passionate, fiery temperament. In a way, Ed was much like a firefly - so small, but so brilliant and fascinating you couldn't help but try to reach for it, tease it, try to learn more... But when you did, it disappeared from sight, blinking off into the darkness. Ed would rebuke him harshly, hole himself up, or derail their conversations entirely. That, and the forces of the universe always seemed to find a way to separate them for days, weeks at a time, lately.

...But speaking frankly, what really made Ed so hard to grasp was the fact that, even if these feelings for him were something romantic in nature, it was a romance Ling could never pursue if he hoped to become Emperor.

Ling closes his eyes, a heavy weight growing in his chest. It was a feeling he was quite familiar with now, after having to eventually abandon all his previous romantic partners back home.

He'd had a bit of a reputation there, always preferring the company of other boys his age, becoming close to ones who shared some of his interests. Then becoming _very_ close when that commonality grew into something much more than friendship.

How many has it been now? Let's see... there was Chang, then Jin, then Ming for a little bit, and Yang... no wait, he'd had a crush on Yang but never asked him out because he moved away... And then there'd been Shu for a while...

Ling sighs deeply. It seemed he really was 'a heartbreaker', as some of the elders called him sometimes. But honestly, it felt like it was his own heart he kept breaking more often than not. Not only was the constant threat of assassination from the other clans a deterrent for potential lovers (and at worst, made them a liability to him), Ling's preferences so far were not considered ideal for a future Emperor of Xing.

His interests were never outright discouraged - it wasn't uncommon for Xingese youths to romance with their own gender, especially amongst royalty - but they were never really _supported_ either, especially as he grew older. At his age, Ling's peers were expected to 'grow out of' these kinds of relationships, because they were becoming adults and needed to 'start being more serious.' Especially Ling himself, considering his status.

Even in the week before he'd left Xing, he'd heard one of his old teachers chuckling behind his back, _Maybe he'll learn how to woo a young lady for a change while he's gone._ _Ha!_

Another joke that Ling had blown off at the time, but quietly resented later.

But in his sixteen years of living, Ling had yet to meet a girl that was worthy of wooing, outside of teasing comments that were really only meant to get a rise out of her short-statured, short-tempered male friend.

Ah... there goes Edward again, invading his thoughts. Would he ever leave them, at this rate? This is...  a kind of a serious concern now, because one of Ling's most important duties as Emperor would _heavily_ _involve_ the wooing and marrying of women in order to produce potential heirs to the throne. He can't keep wasting his heart and time on other men, but so far he's failed at doing anything _but_ that...

"Hey."

If he can't straighten himself out before returning home, then-

"Hey! Idiot-prince!"

For once, Ling is thankful for Ed's insults. He welcomes the interruption.

He opens his eyes and turns to look at Ed, who was frowning at him again.

"Are you... okay? You look kinda sick or something," Ed says.

He was concerned for his well-being? How... nice of him. It doesn't surprise Ling that much, since just earlier Ed was gracious enough to boil the leather of one of his own boots to give them much-needed nourishment. But the look of worry in Ed's eyes and the air of tenderness in his voice still catches him off-guard, a little. Edward had a kind heart, buried underneath his bad temper and worse personality... but ultimately, this was Ling's problem, and his alone.

"I'm fine," Ling says evenly. "Just thinking."

"Hm." Ed sounds unconvinced. He's still staring at him, brows furrowed in concentration as he appears to study his face. Ling feels uncomfortable, suddenly. An irrational thought makes him hope that Amestrian Alchemists can't somehow read people's minds.

...Then a soft growling noise alerts Ling to the fact that his stomach is complaining again, and has been on and off while they've been lying here. No doubt Ed has noticed it by now.

Ed glances down towards Ling's belly, then turns away.

"...Sorry I didn't have any real food. I don't know how long we'll last like this. I think I can hold out for a few days, but you're a bottomless pit compared to me, so..." Ed trails off, then forces a dry laugh.

"It's fine. Neither of us could have predicted this would happen," Ling says, returning the forced laughter with his own, joining Ed's attempts to lighten the mood.

Ed laughs again, a bit more genuine this time. "You got that right. Jeeze..."

The undercurrent of fear and hopelessness was obvious - but nothing could be done about it. At least, not right now.

Ed sighs again, but he doesn't say anything. It's quiet again, and it's making Ling feel uncomfortable, again, his worried thoughts gaining volume and frequency in this silence.

...Maybe he can try looking at Ed again to try to calm down, since it worked before. This time he keeps his gaze away from his face, since his eyes are open now and he'd catch him staring again.

Ling looks downward, towards Ed's chest. He spends a few seconds watching it rise and fall with his breathing, seeing the shape of his chest muscles pushing through his loose, dark shirt ever so slightly. Hm. Yes, very... muscular. He shouldn't linger here.

Ling's eyes drift down further. He takes note of the large belt and leather pants Ed's wearing, and how they cling to his small waist and hips. He can't help wondering why Ed would insist on something so tight and non-breathable in warm weather, though from his time here so far, it seems Amestris' summers aren't quite as unbearable as the ones in Xing.

Oh well. It does show off his form nicely, as Ling's noted several times while watching him fight. Ed's body in motion is a thing to behold, so quick and light on his feet that he gave Lan Fan quite the run around, literally. His legs and backside must be exceptionally toned, since his pants did so well to flatter them-

Er. Um. He's... he might be going too far with this, Ling realizes belatedly. The heat in his face renews itself tenfold as he tears his eyes away from Ed again, trying desperately to suppress his impure thoughts.

After taking a few breaths to gather himself, Ling dares to look back at Ed's face, expecting another accusatory glare from staring at him again. But instead Ed has his eyes closed again, brows furrowed, looking very focused on something. A familiar curiosity bristles in Ling's gut. He decides, having not much else to do or talk about (and still desperate to distract himself), to ask Ed about it.

"What are you doing?"

Ed opens one eye to look at him. "I'm concentrating."

Well, that was obvious. "On what?" Ling says, daring to ask further.

Ed's eye closes again, and the smallest sigh is heard from him.

After a moment, he says, "I'm imagining myself back home, in Resembool. Al and I used to lie like this on this big grassy hill near the river. We'd watch the clouds go by in the day, or gaze at the stars at night. It was the best spot for that kinda stuff."

A memory touches Ling's mind, of a childhood spent doing something similar in the sweltering but clear-skied Xingese summers, whenever he had a chance between training and studies.

"Ah... that sounds nice," Ling says.

"Yeah, it was."

There's a faint sound of metal scraping against metal, and Ling glances down to see Ed tightening his grip on Alphonse's gauntlet in his automail hand. Ling decides to once again point out the obvious for the sake of conversation.

"You must miss him, your brother."

The corner of Ed's mouth twitches. "Yeah. I mean, I'm sure he's fine, but..." He trails off, letting out a breath.

Perhaps this was a bad idea after all. Ed's face was tensing up, looking like he usually did when he started shutting down at Ling's attempts to ask him certain things. The firefly flickering less and less, threatening to blink out of sight.

Ling racks his brain. Maybe he shouldn't ask about his family. But he'd been open about describing his homeland, so maybe...

Ling takes a breath and asks, carefully, "So... what is it like there, your home? What does it look like?"

Ed's face relaxes significantly. "It's a little town in the east called Resembool. It's main industry is sheep farming, so it's all just countryside out there."

The start of a smile curls at the corners of his lips. "It's like... sort of flat, but full of all these rolling hills, all covered in green grass. It's like waves in the ocean, but made of grass instead, and they don't move."

He pauses. "...Well they kinda do, sometimes. It gets really windy in the Fall, and it blows on all the grass and makes all these waves. Then it really is like a big, green ocean. It's cool."

"Especially when you get closer to the mountains. The hills get _huge_ there."

"The mountains are cool too. It's easy to see them in the distance, 'cause the sky is so clear all the time. There's no smog like there is in the cities. And I like cities, don't get me wrong, but I miss the clear skies and the quiet sometimes."

"It's like, you can always see something in the distance, back home. Like the mountains up north, or the big forests to the west, or the deserts to the south. It's all faded and misty and looks all mysterious and stuff. It made me wonder what was out there when I was little. Now I do know - some of it at least. That's one good thing that's come out of all this - me and Al got to travel all over the place."

Ed's smile had widened by now, in this beautifully natural, genuine way. "Maybe I'll keep doing it, after we get our bodies back. It's fun."

Then Ed blinks a few times, as if realizing he was just in a trance and was snapping himself out of it. He glances at Ling, his smile fading back into his usual frown.

"So uh. Why did you wanna know that, anyway?"

Ling only says, "Just wondering."

Something inside him wants him to say,

_because I want to be there with you someday,_

but that... would not be the right thing to say right now. Neither does admitting how drawn in he was to Ed's descriptions of his home, or how intently he'd watched Ed's face relax into a peaceful expression as he talked about it.

Neither does confessing how intensely Ling had been trying to picture this Resembool place in his mind, trying to imagine himself there. How he imagined Ed there as well, laying next to him on one of those rolling hills in that ocean of grass, far away from this ocean of blood and darkness. He could still see it now - Ed laying next to him as he is now, his non-metallic left arm outstretched toward him between the long blades of grass, gently pushing them apart. Ling moving his right hand from its place on his belly and out on the grass, towards Ed's hand, where perhaps they could-

Ah. Er. Yet another train of thought he should abandon. These were piling up significantly now.

Ears burning again, Ling turns his attention away from Edward - but finds that his right hand had obeyed his thoughts from his daydreaming and was now lying on the ground here in reality, slightly outstretched towards Ed's left hand. And as he glances at Ed again, he sees that Ed's staring at him again, but he doesn't seem to have noticed his arm moving.

Ling resists the urge to pull it back, so as not to draw his attention to it. Instead he focuses on meeting Ed's questioning look, doing his best to ignore the loud thumping of his heart.

Ed speaks. "So, do you miss anything? Y'know, from where you come from?"

Ling thinks about the question. It's rather personal, and he could stay tight-lipped about it like he usually is, but considering all that's happened and where they are now, there's probably no point now. They're completely alone here, far away from everyone and everything, including potential spies and assassins. And Ed doesn't seem the type to give away any secrets if he tells him any - he didn't know much about Xing and its politics anyway.

Perhaps, at least right now, it would be alright to divulge a little bit about his personal life.

"...My hometown," Ling says quietly. "I grew up there. My friends, my teachers, my nursemaids. They were all good to me."

Then Ling pauses, swallowing. "...But mostly, I miss my mother."

Ling turns his gaze skyward again, remembering her somberly. "I hope she's doing alright. She'd disagreed with me about taking this journey. And... I've finally started to see why."

To say Ling's mother had 'disagreed' with this mission was a _tragic_ understatement, as the memories of their tearful arguments flash across his mind and make his eyes sting with sorrow. But it was best that he not think about that right now.

Instead he sighs deeply and looks back at Edward - and is taken aback at what he sees.

Ed was still looking at him, but his expression had changed to one that Ling had never seen from him before. He looked... sorrowful, almost pitying, but at the same time there was a kind of... _understanding_ in his eyes. The way they glimmer in the campfire light as they regard him with so much tenderness makes Ling forget how to breathe for a moment.

Then Ed blinks, and turns his gaze back towards the lack of ceiling above them. He'd looked like he wanted to say so much more, but all his mouth said was,

"Oh. Yeah."

But somehow, it feels like enough. Somehow, Ed understands. Or seems to.

A familiar flame burns in Ling's belly as he finds himself wondering what Ed's relationship with his own mother was like, but he does his best to tamp it down. Now was not a good time.

There's another uncomfortable silence. Ed sighs a little.

"Well, uh. You'll see them again, don't worry," Ed says quietly, perhaps not as confidently as he'd intended. But Ling appreciates the encouragement regardless.

He smiles a little and says, "Thanks."

"Mm."

Another silence. Another endless void of discomfort and worry threatening to swallow Ling whole. He wishes he could hold onto something, anything...

Desperate again, Ling looks at Ed again, past his legs and feet, and catches sight of their outstretched hands again. They're still at such a close distance from each other that Ling would only have to lift his arm a little, and Ed would do the same, and-

He...

They could...

...That train of thought had returned, blaring in his ears, barreling towards him with a childish but powerful urge. Tied to the tracks by his own heart, Ling has no choice but to accept it. He shouldn't, but, he can't stop this, he can't keep his mouth from opening and saying,

"Can- Can I hold your hand?"

Ed's head snaps towards him so quickly, Ling's surprised he didn't hear his neck crack. He stares him down with his most incredulous look yet, his whole face pinching at him.

"... _What?_ "

Ling can't meet his eyes. He can't do much of anything because of the heat and embarrassment filling his face, his heart pounding in his ears, his brain screaming with terror. But the deed was done, the question was asked, the train had come and gone and left him splayed out here, exposed and at Ed's mercy. He may as well roll with it like he always does.

Ling stammers a response. "I- I just... I... I want to feel something warm and human for a moment."

The words just spill out of him, unfiltered, pure honesty. Which should've made Ling even more uncomfortable on top of everything else, but somehow now, in this moment, it didn't. Somehow, looking at Edward, he's starting to relax again. Somehow... he was really, truly trusting this strange Alchemist boy enough to confess this childish desire.

The discomfort starts to settle in anyways as Ed keeps giving him that accusatory look. But then something changes, as if those words struck a chord in him after all, and Ed's expression softens a little. His jaw and throat move slightly, swallowing. He glances away.

Ed says, "Uh... Sure, I guess."

For a moment Ling's afraid his heart will burst in his chest and kill him right here. Or his brain will cease functioning and leave him catatonic. Neither would be the worst way to go, after hearing Ed say that. The risk is still there as Ling follows Ed's gaze down to their hands, sees Ed's arm move, his hand lifting to brush against Ling's fingers ever so slightly. The heat and the prickling of their skin touching makes every hair on Ling's body stand straight up, like a shock of electricity through him. Or perhaps, Alchemic energy.

It must be something, some kind of spell that Ed's cast over them without him knowing, that makes him not even hesitate to lift his hand in return and place it in Ed's, intertwine his fingers and curl them around Ed's palm, grasping gently. Ed's fingers grasp Ling's hand in return, a little more firmly, and Ling's heart just _soars_.

This must be a dream, he concludes, the best possible kind. He's in disbelief that this is even happening, that Ed agreed to this, said _yes_ to the stupid little question that Ling had let slip in a rare moment of weakness (that perhaps Ed was the cause of in the first place). Well, dream or no dream, this is... nice. So nice. A warm, pleasant sweetness fills Ling's whole hand, travels up the length of his arm and into his chest, slowly spreading to every inch of his body like honey, as golden as Ed's hair and eyes.

Ling just... lets it happen, lets himself enjoy this bit of childishness, however briefly.

He steals a glance at Ed for a moment. He's not looking at him, his eyes are closed again. And Ling can't tell for sure in the dim light of this strange place and their campfire behind them, but is Ed's face a little more pink right now? Is he... enjoying this as well?

No- no, of course not, Ling concludes, with the smallest sting of heartbreak. Ed considers him a friend and nothing more. He was just accommodating Ling's childishness like he usually does, because of the desperate situation they were both currently trapped in. He misses his brother, his family, his homeland. From the way he's concentrating again, he must be pretending to be lying with his brother on that hill by the river again. Perhaps they held hands like this too.

Ling turns away, closes his eyes, tries to breathe out the butterflies in his stomach and the icicle in his chest.

"I'm so glad," he says softly. Words were spilling out of him again, unheeded.

"Hm?"

"I'm glad that, if I die here, at least it's with a friend."

He says it because it's true. They're still trapped here, still with no ideas on how to get out. And Ed is very much still his friend - a friend that he's starting to wish he could be more than friends with now, but since that will very likely never happen, he was perfectly alright with how they were now. He has to be, for the sake of this moment, his future as Emperor-

"Don't say that."

Ling's eyes snap open, look at Edward again. "...What?"

Ed was frowning at him again, but it's not out of anger, or annoyance. His bright eyes burn even brighter with an inner fire, and his voice is confident, almost commanding.

"We're not gonna die here, Ling. No way. We've both got people waiting for us out there, remember?"

Ed tightens his grip on Ling's hand, but it's more reassuring than forceful. Ling says nothing, feeling breathless again.

"We'll find a way outta here. I'm gonna get Al and me's bodies back, and you're gonna get your secret to immortality so you can go back home and become Emperor. And you'll see Lan Fan again, and all your friends and teachers and stuff."

Then Ed nods at him, his eyes glistening slightly. "...And you're gonna see your mom again. I promise."

For a moment, Ling feels his heart stop beating altogether. He can scarcely believe what he's hearing... Not only was Ed supremely sure of himself in this daunting situation, he was telling him he'd see his mother again - a mother that Ed didn't even know _existed_ until Ling talked about her just a few moments ago, and only a few sentences at that. And after their previous encounters, Ed would've had good reason to assume Ling was lying.

But he didn't. He believed him wholeheartedly.

Ed was truly... truly, an incredible person.

And Ling just looks at him, his confident smile, his burning eyes, the sheer aura of determination emanating from him. And- ah. There it is. This fluttering in his stomach, this skipping in his heart, this pleasant buzzing in his brain. It was undeniable now.

He's in love.

And he thinks he knows why, now. What he likes about Edward so much. It was his passion, his confidence, his fearlessness in the face of certain doom.

But it was also his kindness, his willingness to help others in need, often at his own expense.

And it was his intelligent mind, his muscular body, his long golden hair, his bright flaming eyes.

Just... everything about him.

Ling tries, unsuccessfully, to breathe normally again.

"I- O-okay, Ed," he says weakly. By now, he feels both incredibly elated and incredibly foolish.

Blessedly, Ed doesn't seem to notice either way. He just nods and says, "Yeah. Let's just... finish resting up. Then we can keep looking for a way outta here."

Then he turns away, closing his eyes again.

Ling sighs, tearing his eyes away from Edward to look at the emptiness above them again.

Taking on an impossible quest for the secret of immortality, endangering the well-being of his most trusted companions, and now, falling for this strange foreign boy that he barely knew...

 

Perhaps, Ling thought, he was an idiot after all.

 

END.


End file.
